Friend or Foe

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       Frisk stares blankly at the sink's cupboard-mirror—Too short to see past down her nose, the sink was built for the hight of her hostess.

The scar located below her left eye brow twas but a gift to her from a forgotten past. No matter how frightened she was toward the unpleasant possibilities, it was all the more reason for getting back to the surface to find out more about where she had come from.

Scooting out a stepping stool from the side of the sink, Frisk situates it in front of the cabinet. Now able to see her full upper body appearance to take note of Toriel's superb job in tailoring—The right shoulder of Frisk's long-sleeve had no open seam and her overalls' strap was now back to its original appeal, all traces of being soiled from the fall were gone, the two reflective pink stripes that loop around her overalls' middle shine brighter, too; A part of Frisk's attire to give off some girlish flare—her body too thin to fill up any teen wear that having them altered would be too much time and money to spend all at once.

She hears a knock from the door. "Just a minute." Frisk moves aside the stool to give access for the door to open and finds Toriel standing there. She allows the elder to enter.

"How do you feel? Refreshed? Not too dizzy, I hope." Toriel sounded anxious at that last statement. "I did the best I could to adjust the temperature as lukewarm as I possibly could."

Frisk gives her head a small shake. "No, it wasn't too hot. Thank you for your concern."

Though finding the small beings tiny smile assuring, their eyes read uncertainty to Toriel. She could not help herself from feeling guilty. The child had experienced a traumatic moment dealing with her kind and the idea of blaming the poor thing struggling to trust another monster was coldhearted and down-right futile.  Toriel forces a soft smile of gratitude for the child's mindful effort. Gaining back little hope of appreciation. "You're such a Dear," she admits to the young one. Heart smitten by the human's innocents.

Warmth collects in Frisk's cheeks. Her chest fluters by these caring gestures, she even yearns to call Toriel mother, but thought not to. Only just met this monster lady for the past thirty-five minutes and seeing her as a mother would seem strange to the other party.

The dish was so exquisite to hold back herself from scarfing it down. Frisk had never had anything like it before.

   Toriel laughs. "When was the last time you ate, Child?". Amazed by the youth's wolfing speed.

Frisk catches herself in the unladylike act after Toriel's statement and flushes from her lack of self awareness. She readjusts her posture, dabbing away the remanence of fried sunfish, grilled water-sausage, and stewed beets. Holding her hands between her knees afraid of stuffing her face again, uncontrollably, of Toriel's cooking. "I'm sorry," she says, almost choking on her breath.

   Worry struck Toriel. Her choice of words lead the human to embarrassment. Thinking of how happy she was to enjoy another's company, her mindfulness did not register on how little she knows of this tiny creature; Mentally slapping herself for not thinking before she spoke. "It's quite alright." Her hand rests on the human's back.

Frisk stares up at the hand's owner to find the corners of Toriel's jowls curve slightly upward, tinged with acceptance. Uncertainty settles within the bowels of Frisk's wellbeing, erupted by confusion to understand where this monster lady is coming from. Wasn't I labeled for having poor mannerisms just now? She feels a pat on her back by what felt to be a firm pillow. Her eyes grow warm holding back tears of ... joy? fear? loneliness?

"My, Child, what ever is the matter?" Toriel's way of addressing Frisk was like a hammer smashing into a dam, but the reminder of hearing the term from before helped patch up the cracks.

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